


just because I fight don't mean that I never learned how to love

by Shadowcrawler



Series: Femslash February 2017 [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Crossover Pairings, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash February, Flirting, Minor Character Death, Poison, Rare Pairings, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcrawler/pseuds/Shadowcrawler
Summary: While working a job, Elektra gets the sense she's not alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, Hammer didn't get caught or go to jail, I guess. I just needed someone annoying and expendable and I hate him so much that I've only seen Iron Man 2 twice.
> 
> Also I got very lazy about the assassin's guild or organization or whatever they work for. You're not here for the details of that anyway, right? (If someone wants to go somewhere else with this AU I'd love that.)

Elektra listens to the annoying man drone on and on about his company’s new project and muses idly about how satisfying it will be to slice open his neck.

(She’s technically not supposed to result to violent methods unless absolutely necessary, but with this man...it’s necessary.)

He pauses and looks at her, like maybe she’s supposed to react to his brilliance somehow. She gives him a toothy smile and says, “Fascinating. And you came up with all these things yourself?”

He puffs up like a rooster and launches into another round of bragging. She keeps the smile frozen on her face and decides to let him continue for another few minutes before she suggests going somewhere more _private_. This hotel ballroom is done up nicely for the Hammer Industries fundraiser, just straddling the line between elegance and extravagance, and she knows Hammer, as the CEO, will have a suite all to himself upstairs. Perfect for sneaking upstairs for a bit of fun - or in this case, a fatal “accident.”

As Elektra’s subtly glancing around the ballroom, her eyes fall on a flash of lavender and a familiar face. “Really?” she mutters to herself, careful to keep smiling while Hammer prattles on.

Finally, he pauses to take a breath, and she says, “You know, Mr. Hammer-”

“Oh, I’ve told you, you can call me Justin!” he interrupts, smiling.

“Justin,” she corrects, “as much as I _love_ listening to you talk about your work, I think I’d like even more if we were to continue talking somewhere more... _private.”_ She gives him a smirk, the one that makes men practically fall to their knees. (And women, too. With one notable exception.)

He nods and almost trips over himself escorting her out of the ballroom and toward the elevator. She laughs like it’s cute and not pathetic, her fingers wandering down to toy with the knife she’s hidden in her dress. Soon, this will be over.

In Hammer’s room, someone has left a bottle of wine and glasses for them. Elektra almost rolls her eyes at how obvious it is, but Hammer’s so drunk (or horny) that he just exclaims happily and pours some out for both of them. “To a wonderful evening,” he says, raising his glass. “And may it continue to be a wonderful evening.”

“Oh, I think it will,” purrs Elektra, very carefully not letting any of the wine touch her lips as she tilts the glass back.

Within five minutes, Hammer has collapsed dead on the floor after a minimum of gagging and writhing. It’s a pretty standard poison: quick-acting, low dose, and generic enough to usually show up as other substances in autopsies. It works, but there’s no elegance to it. Elektra prefers something with a bit more flair.

Still, she thinks as she reaches down to close Hammer’s eyes, maybe this is for the best. The evening is still young. “I know you’re there, darling,” she tells the seemingly empty room.

A woman in a low-cut lavender dress - Kara, of course it’s Kara - slips from behind one of the billowy curtains. She’s pouting just slightly. “How’d you know?”

“The wine, left out like that. It was obvious. Dare I say, a bit sloppy.” Elektra smirks at her. “You know better than that. You’re lucky he was particularly stupid.”

Kara tosses her head. “You were taking too long with him. I didn’t like it.”

Elektra chuckles. “Too long, hm? Were you getting jealous, _matakia moy_?”

“Yes,” Kara replies, making her way over to stand close to Elektra. She wraps one arm around Elektra’s waist and grabs her face to kiss her possessively. “I don’t like watching you with them. It’s too convincing.”

“You don’t have to watch,” purrs Elektra, giving Kara’s neck a playful nip. “You weren’t even supposed to be here tonight. Blowing off an assignment?”

Shaking her head, Kara says, “No. I knew you’d be here and I wanted to see how your mission was going.”

“Ooh, bending rules just for me.” Elektra smiles, a real smile this time. They are...not ordered, but _strongly encouraged_ to not interact with the other organization members while either party is engaged in a mission. Since most of them don’t interact with each other except when absolutely necessary, this isn’t usually a problem. Elektra barely remembers the names of most of the others. But Kara - she’s different. She always has been.

Kara scoffs. “I just know you like to make it more dramatic than it needs to be. You were gonna use that knife in your dress, right? So fucking messy. I wanted to speed things up.”

Of course, Kara doesn’t always feel that way. There are times when she’ll return from a mission, blood soaking her clothes and a strange smile on her face. She doesn’t talk about those, and Elektra doesn’t ask. Love doesn’t always mean knowing _everything_ about a person.

Laughing, Elektra runs her hand down Kara’s back, where the dress cuts away to reveal gorgeous soft skin. She doesn’t miss the way it makes Kara melt against her just a little. (She knew wearing the silk gloves tonight was a good idea.) “I don’t need your help,” she says lightly. “I’ve been doing this for longer than you, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” teases Kara. “Elektra Natchios, born killer. You don’t have to come home covered in blood after _every_ kill, though.”

“Don’t I? You seem to like it when I do.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “I fuck you _once_ right after you come back from a job-”

“-and it was amazing,” Elektra interrupts, then adds with a predatory smirk, “You find this just as erotic as I do, darling.”

“Cathartic isn’t the same as erotic,” Kara protests, but her last word ends in a squeak when Elektra leans in to press a hard, sucking kiss to her neck. “Elektra, _please_ -”

“Please what?” Elektra murmurs against her skin. She suspects Kara will say something about how they shouldn’t have sex in the same room as a dead body, but it’s funny to throw Kara off her game. (And she knows how to.)

Kara groans and disentangles herself from Elektra’s arms. “Please don’t try to get me to sleep with you while our target is ten feet away. And dead.”

Elektra pouts. “He doesn’t know the difference. And you look so good in that dress…”

“Home first,” Kara insists. “And you have to report to base, too. Unless you want me to take credit for this.”

“You wouldn’t.” She wouldn’t. Of the two of them, Kara is the one who gives more of a shit about the rules of their organization. Kara might kill Elektra’s target, but she’ll never claim him for her kill list.

Kara sighs. “You’re supposed to take my threat seriously, dammit.”

“I know you too well, darling,” says Elektra sweetly. She ambles over to grab her clutch from where she left it next to the sofa. “Shall I call the car for us?” The company’s provided her a limo for the evening, so as not to arouse suspicion.

Nodding, Kara moves toward the door, stepping over Hammer’s body. “I’m sure you know a discreet way out of here?” she asks.

“Who do you take me for?” teases Elektra, dialing the driver’s number and reciting the security code when he answers. Then she grabs Kara’s hand and kisses it. “You really do look exquisite, Kara.”

Kara smirks. “You’re trying to butter me up so I’ll fuck you in the limo, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” says Elektra, returning the smirk. “I certainly wouldn’t argue it.”

**Author's Note:**

> "matakia moy" - Greek for "my eyes," apparently a term of endearment.
> 
> Believe it or not, this is NOT the most self-indulgent fic I'm writing this month. But it's pretty close.


End file.
